


Not Now, Not Tonight

by Inkblot9



Category: Tintin - All Media Types
Genre: Acceptance, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety, Dreams and Nightmares, Fear of Death, M/M, Sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-24
Updated: 2015-04-24
Packaged: 2018-03-20 14:05:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3653157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inkblot9/pseuds/Inkblot9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Together, they were safe, if only for the night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Now, Not Tonight

Tintin was beautiful, undoubtedly the most beautiful man the former sea-captain had ever laid eyes on. Here, especially, with his silk pajamas loose around his small frame, the peak of his ginger hair catching a sliver of moonlight  _just so_ , his freckled face more serene than it ever was—or  _could_  be—in the midst of one of their globetrotting adventures.

It still astounded him, the fact that somehow this amazing young man—his hero, his redemption, his best friend—had become simply  _his_ ; that his hapless infatuation had grown into an ache of pure love and then somehow been reciprocated; that now the lad was here in  _his_  bed, wrapped in  _his_  arms, and they would be together for as long as fate would allow. He couldn’t help but feel pride in it, that he had become the one being on earth that Tintin had ever deemed worthy of his deepest affection.

 _Well, besides Snowy, of course,_  the Captain thought, laughing quietly to himself.  _It's funny, really; not so long ago I would be groaning to myself about not being able to catch a wink of sleep, but now I don't mind a bit…_

 _At the least, this sure beats an old, rusty ship's cabin,_  he figured. Once, he might have been surprised at the thought, but not anymore. Much as he loved the sea, he loved Marlinspike Hall more, and he loved Tintin most of all.

_I truly am a lucky man. Not only did I survive the worst years of my life, but I came out of 'em with my family estate back under my family name, and now, the dearest love I've ever known…_

" _Mon beau_ ," he whispered—gently, so as not to disturb Tintin's peace. " _Mon amour…Je t'aime, mon cherí…_ "

Despite the length of time he'd lived in Belgium, despite his family's distant French roots, he was still close to incompetent with any language beyond the English he had been raised with. It stood to reason, then, that the words he  _did_  know in his lover's mother tongue were reserved for him.

He felt Tintin shudder in his embrace then, and wondered for a moment if he had in fact awakened him. He prepared to deliver an awkward apology, until he realized he was mistaken. The youth remained asleep, but his breathing was becoming ragged, his tranquility contorting into quiet panic.

"Tintin…?" Haddock laid a hand on the redhead's shoulder and shook him, dismissing the childish superstition that it was somehow bad luck to awaken a man from a dream.

_Thundering typhoons, as if that could be worse than letting him dream on, scaring him to death!_

"Tintin!" he exclaimed, louder this time, as the younger man let out a sharp cry of agony. "Wake up, m'boy! Blistering barnacles—Tintin!  _Augustin_ , darlin'!"

Two steel-blue eyes cracked open slowly, and the Captain sighed with relief.

"Tintin," he murmured, "you okay, lad? You looked like y'were being slaughtered for a minute there! It reminded me of those explorers from ages ago…the Inca curse and all that—"

"Ah…C-Captain…" 

Tintin shivered, gasping loudly for breath. Haddock, noticing the tears in his eyes, pulled him in closer.

"Hush,  _petit_. It's all right. 'Twas only a dream." He kissed the boy's forehead tenderly.

" _O-oui_ , yes, indeed.  _Merci, mon capitaine._  I'm sorry if I gave you a fright. I'm fine, don't worry. I'll just…go back to sleep now…Goodnight."

Anyone else might not have noticed the masked tremor in the young man's tone, but Haddock undoubtedly knew him better than "anyone else".

"Ye sure about that, love?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "You were crying out in your sleep, Tintin…That doesn't sound quite 'fine' to me."

"I'm okay, I promise. It was only a dream, as you said." Tintin turned on his side, away from his partner's face, and squeezed his eyes shut a fraction too tightly.

"If you say so." Haddock shrugged. "You do know you don't have to act like some sort of  _demigod_  all the time, right? Especially not with me! You're only human; you may be the most amazing person on earth to me, but you're still  _only human_ , and I daresay saving the world can wait, sometimes. You don't have to be perfect, and you don't have to carry everything on your own. I know I'm not the greatest at fixing things up, but sure as hell I'll always be there for you. Just as you've been there for me. And nothing, nothing at _all_ , could ever change the way I feel about you."

Tintin opened his eyes again, staring at the wall. He sighed audibly, but he did not reply with words.

"Come on, now!" Haddock went on. "You've seen me at my best and my worst, but did you abandon me whenever I turned into a blubbering buffoon? Did you think I was weak or worthless when I needed your help, as I so often did?"

"Of course not," was the automatic response.

"So do you really think that I'd stop lovin' you if I saw that the little tough guy cries too, sometimes, on the rarest of occasions?"

As the Captain rubbed his back comfortingly, Tintin allowed a gentle smile to take hold of his face. There was no one else in the big wide world he had traveled who would care for him like this. There was no one else who understood him so well, concealed flaws and insecurities and all; no one else he trusted so deeply, no one else he loved in such a way—and no one else to whom he would admit any of that.

And that was the very problem.

His blissful expression faded. He felt the sharp, humiliating sting of tears in his eyes again as he turned back around. "Captain," he said, his voice strained, his words shaking, "I love you. You have changed my life in the greatest way possible, and now all I could ever want is just to be with you, for ever, but—"

"I feel the same for you, Tintin, the very same," Haddock replied, attempting reassurance.

The youth's voice went cold. "But it is impossible." He was truly crying now, much as he resented himself for it. "I dreamt you had been killed, and I was alone. And I don't…I…what  _will_  I do without you? I never imagined I'd need anyone else but myself, but you've filled a hole in my heart that I hadn't known was there. I used to think I was  _above_  such feelings! I'm not." Still trembling, he took the Captain's hand. "I'm not."

"Ohhh, lad…" Haddock squeezed the smaller hand in his. "…we'll have our tragedy yet…"

The numerous possibilities…the thousands of sorrows they could be doomed to! In their case, a perfectly happy ending was certainly not the most likely outcome, for any number of reasons. Their difference in age, the Captain's alcohol-sodden health, Tintin's penchant for danger, the mere fact that they were a pair of men…all of it was enough to send Haddock's own head reeling painfully.

He exhaled slowly and further softened his tone. "…but not now. Not tonight. Tonight we are together. We are home and we are safe. Even if tonight is all we have, tonight I am here, and I am all yours."

Tintin began to relax in the Captain's larger arms, his breath resuming a more steady pattern. Haddock leant forward and kissed his lover, full on the lips. Tintin raised his head to meet him, deepening the kiss.

_This is love, how it feels to love, to be loved._

It was a simple thought, but still an amazing one, and one Tintin could no longer imagine living without.

 _I love Captain Haddock. He loves me. We are friends, companions, mates…partners in every sense of the word. Even if I must lose him, I will still be a better man for having_ had _him. Even if all we have is tonight, tonight he is here. He is mine, and I am his._

The concept was still strange and new to Tintin, but right now being the one protected felt just as good, if not better, than being the protector. He settled back down and closed his eyes again. After a moment, he noticed that the Captain—his Captain!—was singing softly to him. Oh, how he  _adored_  it when he sang…

The melody he did not recognize, and the words, wrapped in a thick Scottish dialect, were too much for his tired Bruxellois mind to decipher, but that was no matter. Haddock's voice was deep and soothing, echoing with all the ancient wisdom and adventure of his bloodline. Before long, Tintin found himself submitting, contentedly easing back into sleep.

Soon enough, the elder man followed suit, murmuring another scratchy " _je t'aime_ " as he, too, found sleep at last.

Together, they were safe, if only for the night.


End file.
